BATTER my heart, three person’d God; for, you
As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow mee, ‘and bend
Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.
I, like an usurpt towne, to’another due,
Labour to’admit you, but Oh, to no end,
Reason your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weake or untrue.
Yet dearely’I love you,’and would be loved faine,
But am betroth’d unto your enemie:
Divorce mee,’untie, or breake that knot againe;
Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I
Except you’enthrall mee, never shall be free,
Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.
(Thanks, Holly!)
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1 response so far ↓
1 Michael Bauman // Feb 8, 2008 at 3:32 pm
The idea pronounced in the last two lines of Donne’s sonnet remind me of the first two lines of George Matheson’s “Make Me a Captive, Lord”:
Make me a captive, Lord, and then I shall be free.
Force me to render up my sword, and I shall conqueror be.
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